


Witchcraft

by TragedyCatalyst



Series: The Door [3]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragedyCatalyst/pseuds/TragedyCatalyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor thinks that there has been some sort of spell cast over him and Rose Tyler might have something to do with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witchcraft

**Author's Note:**

> " 'cause it's witchcraft, that crazy witchcraft  
> And although I know it's strictly taboo  
> When you arouse the need in me  
> My heart says 'Yes, indeed' in me  
> 'Proceed with what you're leadin' me to' "

The Doctor surreptitiously pointed his sonic screwdriver at Rose, feeling a little bit silly. He knew what his favorite tool would tell him, but part of him hoped that the answer would be different, just so he could finally have a reason for some of his actions that he could accept.

Those actions of his that were so so wrong. Of course he knew they were wrong. A Time Lord and a human. The last Time Lord and a human. The last Time Lord and a beautiful human. The last Time Lord and a beautiful Rose. The last Time Lord and  _his_ beautiful Rose.

He shook himself free of those thoughts that were heading to some very taboo places, and glanced at his screwdriver. One hundred percent human. Of course she was, but he'd been hoping that maybe, somewhere, somehow, she had just a teeny tiny bit of non-human blood that would maybe give her some kind of ability that would make him do things he wouldn't normally do, or think things he most definitely should not think, almost like what some humans would call witchcraft.

But no, Rose was all human. Not that he particularly minded, really, though he should. He loved Rose's human-ness. She was just so loving and accepting and brilliant and... standing quite close.

"Doctor," he loved how his name rolled off that wonderfully pink tongue of hers, "you alright?"

He licked his rather dry lips, feeling strangely giddy as he watched her eyes follow his movements, "I'm always alright. Why do you ask?"

"You've just been standing there zoning."

"I wasn't zoning, Rose; Time Lords don't zone. I was thinking."

"Right, 'course. What were you thinking about?"

"Weeeellllll-" His stall for time was unnecessary as she crashed her lips into his, and, oh, what a glorious crash it was; it had all the workings of the best crashes, with sparks and fire and burning and... and... He couldn't stop the moan that slipped out as she raked her wonderfully deft fingers through his hair. He wanted her, no, needed her. His body and mind craved her with an ancient, feral  _desire_.

She pulled away much too soon, and the loss of hot, hot contact made him ache. He reached for her, wanting to draw her back into his arms, right where she belonged, but she slipped past his fingers, dancing up the grating, to the hallway that led towards the Drawing Room. Rose paused at the exit to the console room to turn around and fix him with a seductive "Come Hither" stare over her shoulder, before flitting away. The blood in his body rushed downwards and he mentally filed away that image for another time, thanking all of Time for his perfect memory. Not daring to hesitate should Rose change her mind, he took off at a sprint after her.

She could be a witch or a human or some variation thereof for all he could care. All that mattered was that they were in the here and now together, and Rose was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to ff.net, but I like ao3 more so I'm republishing. This was inspired by "Witchcraft" as performed by Frank Sinatra.


End file.
